Forever
by Secret Weapon
Summary: An age reversal spell brings a sixteen year old Tom Riddle to Hogwarts. A very suspicious Harry Potter returns to school, scarred in more ways than one. Will the two enemies reconcile, or is Harry doomed to burn in his hatred forever? Slash.
1. Tom, Harry and Harvey?

Title : Forever (01/??)

Author : Secret Weapon

Rating : PG/PG-13 for now;

Pairings : HP/TR, SS/RL

Archive: Ask me first

Feedback : Yes please!

Time : Harry's sixth year. Post OoTP.

Summary : This started as an answer to my own challenge - "The Harry X Tom Shower Challenge" on hxt_lightening and then developed into something else. In Chapter 1, Tom and Harry look back the Summer Holidays and we meet Harvey.

Disclaimers : Harry Potter and related characters and places belong to JK Rowling.

"1984" belongs to George Orwell.

Harvey belongs to my sister.

Thanks to my betas, Hyperbole and Suzine.

****

Chapter 1: Tom, Harry and… Harvey?

"Aaaaaaaaaaalbuuuuuuuuuuus!!! "

"You screamed, Minerva?" The headmaster of Hogwarts surveyed his breathless deputy at the entrance to his office without his usual twinkle. He had never seen her this ruffled, even back in 1978 when the Death Eaters had almost stormed the castle.

"He's gone too far this time! I swear by the founders, Albus, if you don't make him get rid of that- that thing then I'm handing in my resignation this instant."

Dumbledore sighed. He had been expecting something like this to happen ever since _he _had been brought to Hogwarts. The staff wasn't very happy with recent developments, but he wanted _him _under his nose where he could keep an eye on _him._ And perhaps this time he'd be able to stop a lost little boy from turning into a monster.

"Minerva, I understand that it isn't easy for you, indeed for any of us, but you must understand that we must treat him with patience. We must make him come to trust us and to see that..." McGonagall cut him off sharply. "What the devil are you talking about ?" she snapped.

"Our young guest, isn't that whom you have come to complain about ?"

She snorted. "_Him?_ I got over _him _ages ago. I'm talking about Hagrid and his infernal cross-breeding. He's created a... Oh! Come and see for yourself ! It can't be allowed!" With that she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him off towards the grounds.

**********

Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, was confused. It had been an uneventful summer, unless you counted the time he had accidentally changed his Muggle family into cockroaches and even that had been cleared up almost immediately. A wizard from the Accidental Magic Reversal Department had come along, turned everyone human again (or at least as close to human as they had been before), Obliviated them and then, after patting Harry patronizingly on the head and telling him that these things happened, Disapparated. Otherwise his holidays had been almost mundane; his Uncle and Aunt had mostly ignored him, only talking to him when telling him to mow the lawn or sweep the floor. Dudley, still terrified after the Dementor episode last year, had kept out of his way, and two weeks before school started a letter, a perfectly normal letter with a single stamp, had arrived from the Weasleys asking him to stay. They even came to collect him by car, much to the relief of the Dursleys.

He was glad to be at the Burrow, but he still was mildly annoyed at the way everyone was treating him, as if he were made of china and would break if not treated with care. Mrs. Weasley fussed over him and tried to make him eat fourth and fifth helpings of everything (was she trying to fill the void Sirius' death had left with food?). Mr. Weasley bombarded him with questions about Muggles all the time, you would think that being so fascinated with them he would know more about them (was he trying to keep Harry's mind off Sirius?). The twins, Ron and Ginny had kept him busy. What with Quidditch and trying out the twins latest inventions he didn't have much time to think of his late Godfather too much, though he was never far from Harry's thoughts. No one had said anything about the Order or the upcoming war against evil. 

The strangest thing was that the dreams had stopped. His nightmares had gotten worse and worse, and finally a week before his sixteenth birthday he had one so horrible that he still broke into a cold sweat whenever he though of it. He had woken up screaming so loud that he woke the people next door. His Uncle and Aunt had been furious and the ensuing row resulted in the cockroach incident. The next night he had been afraid to go to bed but it turned out that his fears were unfounded. From that night on he had slept like a baby all night, every night. Harry wasn't complaining but he still thought it was very odd.

During the train ride to Hogwarts a bespectacled girl with green eyes and black hair had come into the compartment and announced to his astonishment that she was Harry's identical twin sister. Hermione then launched into an explanation of how she couldn't possibly be an _identical _twin sister, to be Harry's twin she'd have to be _fraternal _and then went on to describe how twins were formed when they were embryos in the womb. This gave Harry a chance to get a good look at his new sister, and then he noticed that she had an Adam's apple. On closer observation they (he, Ron and Hermione) discovered that she wasn't even a girl but just Colin Creevey in a wig and contacts, who then turned red and ran off muttering something about how he was never going to play _truth and dare _with Ginny and Luna ever again.

Apart from that nothing happened. Even Malfoy didn't come over to jeer at them, which was very odd considering that not only had his father managed to get himself acquitted of being a Death Eater (no one was sure of exactly how he had managed this), but then had sued the Ministry of Magic for 'wrongful arrest and physical and mental trauma' winning around two million galleons in damages. Mr. Weasley had been disgusted with this 'gross mishandling of the law' as he called it and could hardly say 'Malfoy' without quivering in rage and indignation. The Daily Prophet was saying that Lucius Malfoy was now the lead contender for the next Minister of Magic. 

So Harry was confused. He also had the feeling that there was something or _someone _waiting for him at Hogwarts that would make up for the relative dullness of the previous two months and he was very apprehensive.

***********

While Albus Dumbledore was being dragged across the Quidditch Pitch by a very irate Minerva McGonagall and Harry Potter was wondering what his sixteenth year would have in store for him, another sixteen year old with black hair and green eyes was moodily staring at the ceiling of his private room in Hogwarts from the ornate four poster he had been assigned. He was pondering his sorry (at least that's how it appeared to him) existence. How he had risen from obscurity and a life of poverty and abuse to become one of the most powerful dark lords that the wizarding world had ever seen only to be struck down at the very height of his power by a defenseless little baby. He had finally returned only to have his efforts thwarted by the very same boy at every turn and now here he was, a prisoner under the observation of Dumbledore, and due to his present weakened powers he couldn't do a thing about it.

Two months earlier Narcissa Malfoy nee Black had paid Dumbledore a visit. If her husband was found not guilty to all the charges against him, she would give Dumbledore the Dark Lord. She had access to the various strengthening potions that Voldemort was required to take from time to time and she would treat them with a potion that would transform him a mere boy of sixteen years. His powers would be similarly affected. She would then have him delivered to Dumbledore, but only if Lucius was cleared of being a Death Eater.

Dumbledore agreed to her proposition (who wouldn't?) all the more eagerly because it would give him a chance to nurture the boy who he had antagonized before. It would give him a chance to save a soul that had been lost to the dark so many years ago. 

The Dark Lord didn't know what had hit him. He had taken his strengthening potion and gone to bed as Lord Voldemort in his dark lair and woken up as Tom Marvolo Riddle at Hogwarts with Dumbledore smiling benevolently down at him.

Tom thought that the worst thing was how he was losing most of his memories. He knew what had happened between the years 1942 to 1996 but he couldn't remember much of it. It was as if it had all been a dream or vestiges of another lifetime. When he had told Dumbledore this the old man had smiled and told him that it all had been another lifetime and that he should look towards the future and leave the past in the past or some similar nonsense.

The old bumbler wouldn't leave him alone. He'd drag Tom out of his room for walks, afternoon tea, trips to Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley and try and get Tom to 'open up' to him. It didn't matter how many times he was politely rebuffed, he would just smile and change the subject. The rest of the staff were wary of him. He knew some of them: Binns (wasn't he ever going to call it a day?), Flitwick (only in Tom's time he's been a cheerful young midget instead of an old one), McGonagall (it had been a shock when she first walked in, the last time he had seen Minerva McKnowitall she had only been four years older than himself), Hagrid (he couldn't forget his scapegoat now, could he?). There was a man called Snape who watched him like a hawk when he thought that Tom's attention was elsewhere but who wouldn't meet his eyes (some relation of Sebastian Snape perhaps - he certainly had the nose - in 1942 the boy had been a year his junior). Barring Dumbledore they were all afraid of him, he could tell.

He was always under close surveillance. He had to be accompanied by a teacher when he left his room. He was surprised that they let him use the bathrooms without coming in to see that he was not fashioning some weapon of mass destruction with dental floss and a toilet brush. The restricted section in the library was out of bounds, and any book he wanted to read was inspected first. He had read a Muggle book called 1984 recently - " Big Brother is watching you ". That summed it up nicely.

The students would be arriving today, Tom thought. He would see Harry Potter, and Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius and Narcissa who were responsible for his predicament. It didn't help that he couldn't remember any of these people. He was going to be introduced as a transfer student from Durmstrang. 

Tom was angry, nervous and very bored. But nothing could be worse then his situation right now, could it? This thought cheered him up a bit and he felt better than he had all day. He had no idea how wrong he was. It was about to get much, much worse.

**********

Severus Snape was busy cursing the day he had ever met Lucius Malfoy, he had just bumped into the man at a last minute trip to Diagon Alley and he would not stop dropping veiled hints (and some not so veiled hints) about how Snape ought to get a boyfriend. Narcissa was even worse. She didn't even try to be subtle about it and started talking about setting him up on a blind date with some part-veela cousin of Lucius'. He had managed to get away from them before they started giving him tips on hair care, which they did on a regular basis.

He was skulking over by the rose bushes when he was startled out of his grumbling by a crashing noise over by Hagrid's Hut so he went over to see what all the commotion was about. When he got there he saw Hagrid arguing with McGonagall and Dumbledore. This however was not the first thing that grabbed his attention; behind Hagrid was what appeared to be a large wooden cage which held a giant frog which was bashing itself against the bars in an effort to get out of it.

"Sweet Merlin_,_ what the hell is that?"

Hagrid looked affronted, "Tha's jus' Harvey. An' as I were tellin' Professor Dumbledore here he wouldna' hurt a fly."

"Harvey?" Snape gaped, "That thing has a name?" He turned to Dumbledore, "You aren't going to let him keep it are you?"

Dumbledore shook his head vigorously, "I'm sorry Hagrid, but I can't allow you to keep a… what did you say it was again? Mega-frog?"

"Super-frog, professor. I didna' mean fer 'im ta get so big. 'e were jes' the runty one an' figured if he were a mite bigger the other frogs would be nicer to him."

McGonagall let out a short explosive noise. " Frogs don't have a pecking order Hagrid. You aren't supposed to do magic anyway. So get rid of it - the students will be arriving any moment."

Hagrid jumped, "Blimey! I fergot! I hafta go an' meet the firs' years."

Dumbledore nodded, "Very well. But this is not over, Hagrid. After the feast you and I will discuss Harvey's removal from the school."

Hagrid gulped and tears started to run down his cheeks at the thought of saying goodbye to his beloved Harvey. But he could see that Dumbledore meant business; and so he wiped them away with the back of his hand and went off to Hogsmeade station.

As soon as he was gone Snape and McGonagall rounded on Dumbledore.

"This is insane!"

"Albus, you're far too lenient with him"

"A super-frog? I ask you, who in their right senses would create a super-frog?"

"The other frogs were picking on it? They're frogs! They're not capable of such emotions!"

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence them. "Don't worry, I shall make sure that it is gone by the end of the week. Now, if you will excuse me I must see if out young visitor is ready for the feast."

Snape stared at his retreating back. "Honestly, they're as bad as each other, Hagrid with his super-frogs and Albus with his 'young visitor'".

McGonagall smiled at him, "Yes, its appalling how Albus is always ready to give anyone a second chance isn't it?" she said sweetly.

Snape felt as if she had slapped him across the face. "Alright, I see your point. But Dark Lords and Death Eaters aside, Hagrid's new monstrosity must be dealt with."

"Yes", she agreed," Albus will get rid of it. Now we'd better get back. I have to deal with the first years when they arrive." 

**********

**********


	2. First Impressions

Title : Forever (02/??)

Author : Secret Weapon

Rating : PG/PG-13 for now;

Pairings : HP/TR, SS/RL, DM/GW

Archive: Ask me first

Feedback : Yes please!

Time : Harry's sixth year. Post OoTP.

Summary :An age reversal spell brings a sixteen year old Tom Riddle to Hogwarts. A very suspicious Harry Potter returns to school, scarred in more ways than one. Can the creation of the Dark Lord be stopped this time? Will the two enemies reconcile, or is Harry doomed to burn in his hatred forever? Warning - Eventual Slash.

Chapter 2 : The title says it all really.

Disclaimers : Harry Potter and related characters and places belong to JK Rowling. Harvey belongs to my sister.

Thanks to my betas, Hyperbole and Suzine.

****

Chapter 02 : First Impressions

Harry stared up at the awe-inspiring bastion that was Hogwarts. Since he got off the train the feeling that something was wrong had grown rather than diminished. He was all the more certain when he saw Hagrid calling to the first years. It looked to him as if the half-giant had been crying; now that couldn't possibly be a good sign. As his gaze swept over the towers and pinnacles of the castle he felt that someone was watching him. .He thought he could see the shadowy outline of somebody at a window. He squinted at it trying to make out who it was. Ron suddenly grabbed his elbow, "You OK, mate?"

"Fine", snapped Harry annoyed at being distracted. He turned back but the figure had gone.

"What is the matter with you?" asked Hermione. "What's so fascinating over there?"

"I thought I saw someone," Harry said. "Have either of you got the feeling that something bad is going to happen?"

"Now that you mention it," said Ron, "I think it's going to rain if we don't get in soon."

Harry was about to say something scathing to Ron that he'd probably regret later when Ginny came rushing up. "Harry!" she gasped, "I'm so sorry about earlier. We never thought that Colin would actually go and do it. "

"'S'alright," he said," No harm done." 

"Wonder where Malfoy is." Said Ron as they entered the castle. "He was there in the prefects carriage earlier with a ridiculous grin on his face. Probably still chuffed about his Dad getting off, the smarmy git."

The first thing Harry saw as they reached the entrance hall was Professor McGonagall. She looked as if she had to perform some very distasteful business and was not looking forward to it at all. She made a beeline for Harry when she saw him.

"Mr Potter, Miss Weasley, I'd like a word." she said. She turned to Ron and Hermione. "Go on to the feast. I'm sure you will be told when the time is right."

They gave Harry and Ginny puzzled looks before going on into the great hall. McGonagall lead them aside to where they couldn't be overheard. "I must impress upon the two of you that what I am going to say to you is of utmost importance." she said. "I need you to promise me that you will do as I say."

Harry looked at Ginny and saw that she was looking as surprised as he was. "Alright, Professor," he said. Normally he would have asked twenty questions before acquiescing to something like this but McGonagall was so earnest in her manner that he could very well do anything else.

"No matter what you see in the great hall tonight, you are not to react." she said. "You also must not mention any of this to Mr Weasley and Miss Granger or anyone else. This conversation is to remain between the three of us. The headmaster will speak to you privately and answer any questions you may have after the feast. The password to his office is 'Sugar-quill'." She looked around uncomfortably. "He wanted to do this before you saw anything, but a necessary party hasn't shown up yet and he feels that it will help you understand better if this party is present when he speaks to you."

This was getting more confusing by the minute. " But Professor..." he said.

"You must promise me that you will not speak of anything untoward that you see tonight." She said urgently.

"Yes, Professor," they said in unison. Harry wished that he didn't like his head of house as much as he did. It would make it a lot easier to disagree with her.

Draco Malfoy bounced into the entrance hall. Literally. He was practically skipping. "Hogwarts! Hogwarts! Hoggy Warty Hogwarts!" he trilled. "We're back at Hogwarts! The most wonderful place in the world! We come here to learn! Wheeeeeeeeeeee! "

Harry was trying his best not to laugh, with McGonagall standing there it wasn't a very good idea. She probably would think that Harry had something to do with Malfoy's bizarre behaviour. Was Malfoy on drugs? He certainly seemed high. He glanced at Ginny and saw that she was going purple in her efforts to keep a straight face. McGonagall looked as if she were about to start smoking at the ears any minute.

"Malfoy!" she yelled. Malfoy looked up and his grin widened, a feat that Harry had not thought possible. "Professor McGonagall! The ever-wonderful Miss Minnie! The bestest teacher in the whole wide world." he said ecstatically.

Miss Minnie? Harry couldn't help himself and burst out laughing. McGonagall glowered at him. "Cheering Charm", she muttered and waved her wand over Malfoy. "_Finite Incantatem_."

Malfoy stopped in the middle of serenading Pansy Parkinson, who was looking very bewildered. "What the... " He said.

"Mr Malfoy, you seem to be the unfortunate victim of a cheering charm. Do you have any idea who cast it?" said McGonagall glaring at him. She obviously was still angry being called Miss Minnie.

"No, Professor. But I'll bet it was Weasley." Malfoy said smirking at Harry and Ginny. They both started to defend Ron at the top of their voices. McGonagall held up a hand to silence them.

"What you think, Mr Malfoy, is of no importance to me. Do you have any proof whatsoever that Mr Weasley was the one that hexed you? No. Then kindly go on to the feast and stop wasting my time with your unfound accusations." She nodded to Harry and Ginny who were mentally cheering her on. "Remember what I said, you two," she said and went off to collect the first years.

"You slimy git. You know that Ron didn't hex you." spat Ginny at Malfoy.

"Watch it, Weaslet. For all I know it could have been your brother. On second thoughts you're probably right. A cheering charm would be way too complicated for him to perform." 

"What are you all doing here ?" Filch came up from behind a statue followed by his evil feline companion. "Plotting mayhem and mischief, no doubt. Get along with you."

"You got lucky, Malfoy" hissed Harry as they slipped into the great hall. " You'd better think twice before you start insulting my friends again, or have you forgotten what happen in the train two months ago? Enjoy being a slug much?"

Malfoy gave him a very dirty look before going over to the Slytherin table with Pansy. Harry turned to Ginny, "What d'you think about that business with McGonagall then ?" he asked as they sat down.

She wasn't listening. She was staring ahead of her at the Slytherins with a very white face. She gripped Harry's elbow painfully hard and pointed to what she had seen." Look", she said in a voice that chilled Harry's bones. "Its _him"._

At first Harry saw nothing unusual. She was looking at a boy with dark hair whose face Harry couldn't see, as he seemed to be examining his cutlery. The boy looked up and Harry's heart stood still as their eyes met. _Oh God, it's not true. It can't be him. It can't be._ He couldn't look away. Those eyes, almost identical to his own, seemed to go on forever. He was drowning in a sea of green, his head was spinning. He'd seen those eyes before, he'd seen them mock him as he lay dying from the basilisk's venom in the Chamber of Secrets. They had haunted him in the last dream that he had, the one he so much wanted to forget. The one he could tell no-one about. The boy broke off his stare and Harry was startled out of his reverie. He turned to Ginny who looked as awful as Harry felt.

"It's him," she repeated, "Tom Riddle."

******************* 

Draco Malfoy sat down at the Slytherin table fuming. Damn Potter and his sidekicks! Why could he never get the better of them? He was positive that one or the other of them had hexed him as he got out of his carriage. To say that his mother had not been amused when she saw him get off the train last term would be putting it lightly. She was more annoyed that he had allowed himself to be cursed than anything. She had told him that she was tired of seeing him end up hexed every time she let him out of her sight and warned him not to get himself into any such situations this year which was why he had kept away from Potter and his groupies on the train. 

He wasn't pleased with his mother either. His father was on a trip abroad somewhere and she had refused to see him off. She said that she had things to do and he'd understand later. 

He noticed a boy of about his own age sitting next to him that he didn't know. "Hello," he said to him, "Who are you ?"

The boy turned and looked him up and down lazily, as if wondering whether he was worth answering. "Jeremiah Leopold Arnez, transfer student, Durmstrang. You'll be Draco Malfoy, then?" he said.

"That's right," said Draco.

Arnez looked down at his fork. When he looked up again he stared across the hall for a few seconds. Draco looked to see what he found so interesting and saw him staring at Harry Potter, who was staring right back. Potter looked, in Draco's opinion, like he'd just walked in on Snape and McGonagall going at it in the prefects' bathroom. 

Arnez broke off his gaze abruptly and turned to Draco. "That boy with the glasses. He's Harry Potter, isn't he ?" Arnez said casually. _Too casually _Draco thought.

"Yeah, that's Potty. He's a real pain in the arse, though. He hangs around with Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers. Doesn't know what's good for him." 

Arnez nodded and was silent, apparently lost in thought. Draco let him be for a while and then as the sorting began a thought stuck him. "Durmstrang, huh?" he said to Arnez. "How come you have a British accent?"

"Durmstrang has students from all over the world. It's hardly local like your school." Arnez said superciliously. "It's sort of an alternative for parents who wish their children to go where they have a more liberal approach to certain subjects, if you know what I mean. You can hear about a dozen different accents at Durmstrang. Which one would you like me to have?"

Draco pouted and then hurriedly straightened his face when he realised what he was doing. "I knew that," he said peevishly." I just don't know any British wizarding families with Arnez as their surname."

"And you know all the Wizarding families in the British Isles, do you? What a social animal you must be."

Draco considered this. "I suppose I might not know your family. But I still think that I would have heard of you if you go to Durmstrang. I have a second cousin who goes there and we write regularly. I'm sure Natalia would have mentioned you."

Arnez sneered at him. "Not everyone's life revolves round your family. I don't go out of my way to seek out Malfoys and their brethren. We were barely acquaintances."

Draco sneered back. "I'll bet you didn't . She belongs to the branch of the family which has some veela blood in them and it shows in her. Every male student above the second grade seeks her out. She often writes about the ones who are worth noticing and I know enough of her to know that she would find you worth noticing."

"Her charms don't affect me," he said smirking. "I'm immune."

"Hah!" Draco scoffed. "What are you? An eunuch?"

"No. I don't like girls."

"You don't like,,, _Oh,"_ It took Draco a few seconds for this to sink in, then he scooted back a few inches away from Arnez. 

He laughed. "Don't worry, Malfoy. I have no plans to deflower you. I don't go lusting after Malfoys. Too anaemic looking for my liking."

Draco relaxed a bit. "So why did you transfer to Hogwarts then?"

"The standards went down after Karkaroff did a runner. So here I am."

"So here you are. You've been sorted into Slytherin I take it."

"Naturally."

"Year?"

"Sixth."

"So, we'll be sharing a dormitory." Draco was rather pleased at the prospect of having someone other than Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini to talk to, someone with whom one could actually carry out a conversation with.

Arnez shook his head. "No we won't. I have my own room. I told you, I fly the other side of the Quidditch pitch. They don't want to put me in with the boys and it would be inappropriate to put me with the girls. So I have a room all to myself. Lucky me."

Draco considered pretending to be gay for a few seconds; it certainly had its perks. But when weighed against how furious his father would be it wasn't really worth it. "How did _they _find out about your... _preferences, _anyway?"

"I got caught in the broom-shed with my roommate. Lets just say the reaction we caused wasn't pretty."

Draco snickered, "Ouch!"

"Tell me about it, I won't be doing that again in a hurry."

"You're OK, Arnez. What do they call you ? Jerry or Leo ? We're all friends here. In Slytherin we have to stick together. "

"I know what being a Slytherin means," the boy hissed, startling Draco with his viciousness. Then he smiled at him cheerfully, a smile that Draco noticed didn't reach his eyes. "They call me Jerry Lee. I was named after either of the two scoundrels my mother thought might have been my father*"

Draco didn't know what to make of this. "So are you a pureblood, or what?" he asked, wondering if they boy would hiss at him again.

"I might be, my mother was one."

"Ooooh, so you're a love child ?" cooed Pansy, who had obviously been listening on the last part of their conversation but hadn't heard (or chose not to have heard) about Arnez not liking girls.

Arnez whipped his head round and stared at her for a second. Then he laughed, "I suppose you could call me that. " he said easily.

Draco snorted. Love Child? That was just an over-romantic way of saying bastard. He turned to see Pansy simpering at the new arrival and shook his head. This ought to be fun when she found out he was gay.

Arnez rolled his eyes at him and then pretended to look interested in what Pansy, who was flirting with him like there was no tomorrow, was saying.

Draco leaned back and watched him while he was thus occupied. He was going to have to keep an eye on this one.

******************* 

He had seen him coming up to the castle, and it was a bit like meeting someone you'd met at nursery. He'd been so familiar and yet so difficult to place. He'd been watching the students come in and had been drawn to a skinny youth with messy black hair, glasses and eyes that could have been his own. He had looked as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. The boy had noticed he was being watched and looked over to where Tom had been standing. Then he'd turned to talk to a tall redheaded boy and Tom had slipped off into the shadows.

Tom knew that this boy was important, he didn't know why, but there was something about him. Tom felt that he ought to know him, that he had known him in his other life. He wished he knew what type of potion had been used on him. He knew some things but he couldn't remember them happening. The events after he turned sixteen were hazy. He had read up about himself and just what had happened to him but he didn't remember most of it . 

At the Slytherin table he had met the Malfoy boy, the boy was the image of his grandfather, and Lysander Malfoy (who had been in Tom's year) had been the image of his own father. Tom was beginning to think that the Malfoy family had done away with normal conception methods and just cloned themselves instead. 

Then he saw him again. Across the hall, at the Gryffindor table. Their eyes met and the other boy had refused to look away. Tom felt the same strange connection between them. He found himself caught in the other's captivating gaze, green eyes, almost identical to his own, that seemed to go on forever. He was drowning in a sea of green, his head was spinning. He managed to break off eye-contact before he was swept away.

Harry Potter. Who else could it be. Malfoy confirmed it. Tom snuck another glance at him. The boy and a redheaded girl next to him were goggling at him as he were the Ghost of Christmas Past** or something. He supposed that they must have recognised him for who he really was. This time he noticed the scar on his forehead._ I did that _thought Tom and to his great surprise he felt a small stab of remorse.

He had been given instructions on what he was to tell the other students. He had blushed crimson when Dumbledore had suggested that he give _alternative_ _preferences_ as a reason for his separate quarters. Tom wasn't even sure if he was gay or not. He admitted that boys did turn his head but he had never actually done anything about it. He figured that Dumbledore must have found about it from his past? Future? Tom didn't even know what to call it. Dumbledore had also insisted that he tell anyone who asked that he wasn't sure if he were a pureblood or not as he was not aware of his father's identity. Tom knew exactly why this was: he didn't want him associating with Slytherin's elitist purebloods. Most of them looked down on illegitimate children and Dumbledore, the sneaky old bastard that he was, knew it. 

Malfoy seemed satisfied with his explanations at any rate. An annoying female friend of Malfoy's started to chat him up just when Tom thought that they had got past the interrogation stage and he found his thought turning to Harry Potter again. He could feel a few nasty confrontations coming up. _Oh well_, he thought, _at least it will be interesting._

With that he turned to Malfoy's friend and tried to look as if he was listening to what she had to say.

******************* 

******************* 

* "I was named after either of the two scoundrels my mother thought might have been my father." This is a modified version of what Mel Gibson says to Goldie Hawn in "Bird on a Wire" : "I were named after the two rascals my momma thought might have been my daddy".

** ' The Ghost of Christmas Past' from "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens.


	3. The Hand That Rocks the Cradle

Title : Forever (03/??)

Author : Secret Weapon

Rating : PG/PG-13 for now;

Pairings : HP/TR, SS/RL, DM/GW

Archive: Ask me first

Feedback and Reviews: Yes please! Makes my muse happy!

Time : Harry's sixth year.Post OoTP.

Summary : An age reversal spell brings a sixteen year old Tom Riddle to Hogwarts. A very suspicious Harry Potter returns to school, scarred in more ways than one. Can the creation of the Dark Lord be stopped this time? Will the two enemies reconcile, or is Harry doomed to burn in his hatred forever? Warning - Eventual Slash.

Chapter 3 : The new DADA techer arrives.

Disclaimers : Harry Potter and related characters and places belong to JK Rowling.

Thanks to my betas, Hyperbole and Suzine.

****

Chapter 03: The Hand That Rocks the Cradle.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked anxiously, "You two look as though you've just seen a ghost."

"Nothing," Ginny said hurriedly. "We can't tell you now. Maybe later." She gulped.

"Huh!" said Ron huffily. "You may have loyalty issues but Harry'll tell us what's wrong, right mate?"

"For Gods sake!" said Ginny shrilly. Her voice was beginning to get rather hysterical. "If I say we can't tell you then we can't. It's not about loyalty, you stupid arse. Can't you get it into your thick skull that we might have a good reason not to tell you!"

People were starting to look round. Ron looked so taken aback that in other circumstances Harry would have felt quite sorry for him. Right now all he could think of was the green eyed boy at the Slytherin table. _Tom Marvolo Riddle... I am Lord Voldemort... Did you think that I was going to use my filthy Muggle father's name forever?... I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry... _

Hermione patted Ginny's arm soothingly. "Calm down, Ginny. It's alright. You tell us whenever you can. We both understand if you've been told not to tell us anything. But perhaps if you could just point us in the general direction of - "

"No you don't." Ginny snarled. "You don't understand at all. You're just as bad as he is. We can't!"

"But Gin," said Ron, in what he clearly thought was a cajoling manner. "When they say 'don't tell anybody' they don't mean me and Hermione."

"That's right in a way," said Hermione. "Dumbledore has never left us out of anything that he has ever told Harry. It's not as if we would tell anyone."

Ginny had started to rock herself back and forth in her seat. Her face had closed up and was a white mask. Her freckles were standing out very red, in stark comparison to how pale she had gone. Hermione's words seemed to jerk her out it and she reddened with anger. "You're supposed to be smart Hermione. _Just which part of 'We can't' don't you understand?"_

"What I don't understand is why you are behaving so completely irrational about this. All we're trying to do is help!"

The last thing Harry wanted right now was to start discussing the matter. That would make it real. If they just ignored it then it would be all the easier to pretend that he and Ginny were suffering from induced hallucinations caused by exposure to Malfoy's antics. _I destroyed the diary - what is he doing here? How did he get here? Can nothing I do stop him? Is he really Immortal? Then what chance do I have of stopping him?... One must die at the hand of the other... _

"Can we please talk about something else," he said desperately. "Anything else. Oh look! The Sorting's started." He had been too wrapped up in his own thoughts to pay attention to what was going on elsewhere in the hall. The first years had trouped in and the Sorting Hat had sung its song without him noticing.

Ron and Hermione exchanged odd looks but they complied. "What do you think the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher will be like?" said Hermione with false cheerfulness. "I do hope they're better than Umbridge was."

"Nobody could be worse than Umbridge," said Ron. "It would be some kind of record if they managed to find someone fouler then she was. What are your plans for the Quidditch team this year Harry?"

"What?", said Harry distractedly. "Plans? Oh yeah, I'll be playing I suppose. That is if I'm still on the team. Ginny was doing quite a good job... "

"Of course you're on the team! " exclaimed Ron. "Katie's the new captain! She says that you're back on as seeker. Haven't you heard? You're completely out of it, aren't you?"

"Sorry," Harry said dejectedly. He was back on the Quidditch team and he didn't even feel happy about it. Quidditch was one of the only things that he thought he was good at. What was the matter with him? _Just the fact that Voldemort is in the room and hasn't tried to kill me and that everyone's fine with the fact that he's here in the room and they know that he's here 'cause McGonagall told me to keep my mouth shut. She told me not to tell anyone what I saw in the room. I saw Voldemort in the room. Voldemort's here and he hasn't tried to kill me as yet... _Harry caught himself before his thoughts spiralled out of control.

The Sorting was over. "About time," said Ron. "I'm so hungry I could- "

"Eat a hippogriff. I know," said Hermione. "All you can think about when we get here is food. Right, Harry?"

She was trying to include him in the conversation. Harry tore his eyes away from _him _(They had wandered back to the Slytherin table on their own accord) and made an effort to look interested in Ron's appetite.

Dumbledore stood up at the head table. "Welcome to our new students and a hearty Welcome back to our old ones. And now - let the feast begin." He clicked his fingers over his head and food appeared at the tables.

"Whew!" said Ron. "At last!" Harry didn't think that he could eat without being sick. He looked at the head table to see the teachers calmly tucking into their food and talking quietly among themselves. Hagrid was drooping and mournful but apart from that they were all acting as if it was the most natural thing in the world to have Voldemort drop in for dinner. Dumbledore smiled as he said something to Professor McGonagall. Harry felt a sudden surge of anger. _It's alright for him. He's the all powerful Albus Dumbledore. He knows what's going on. Couldn't he have given me some warning? Does he think that sending McGonagall to warn me was going to make me feel any better when I saw _him? _How much more of this does he think I can take? _

"Hiya Harry!" Colin Creevy grinned at him apologetically from across the table. He was just the excuse that Harry was looking for to vent his anger. "Oh look," he said maliciously, "It's my long-lost-identical-twin-sister. How're you doing, Harriet?"

Colin want red. Hermione, Ron and Ginny looked at Harry in surprise. Harry felt a little ashamed of himself when he saw how down heartened Colin was. "Sorry Colin, that was uncalled for. I'm just a bit preoccupied that's all."

"No worries," said Colin brightly, all smiles again. "I was afraid I might have hurt your feelings."

"Well you didn't. Don't worry about it." _Now shut up and leave me alone. _

"You aren't eating anything," Hermione was peering at him with a concerned expression on her face which irritated Harry to no end.

"I'm not hungry that's all." _Since when did you turn into my mother? Practising for when you become Mrs Ronald Weasley, are you?_

"It might make you feel better," she persisted. "At least try to eat a little."

"I'm protesting against slave labour. I'm doing my bit to support _spew_." _And if I eat anything I might just spew all over you._

Ron choked on his roast potatoes.

Hermione glared at them. "Humph," she said. "Number one - it's S.P.E.W. and number two - it would be nice if you'd try and take care of yourself for once.

"Speaking of S.P.E.W. I think you lot really should chip in this year." she went on. Ron groaned and helped himself to more chicken. 

"Honestly Hermione, "he said impatiently. "When are you going to give up on that? House elves like being enslaved. You're fighting a losing battle."

"I don't expect you to understand. All they need is some incentive. But with the NEWTs coming up I won't be able to do much all by myself, that's where you come in." she said.

"The NEWTs aren't 'till next year," Ron protested.

"But we have to start preparing for them this year. And if you think I'm going to share my notes with you this year you're wrong. Besides, we won't be taking all the same subjects will we? I don't suppose either of you will be taking potions, will you."

"That's about right," said Ron. "I've had enough of Snape to last me several lifetimes. You don't mean to say that you're going to continue."

Harry tuned the rest of their conversation out. He had more important things to worry about than Snape. He was getting angrier by the minute. Why were they always keeping secrets from him? Surely Dumbledore should have realised by now, especially after last years tragic events, that it was better that he be told the truth no matter how awful that truth was. _If I had known about that prophesy, Sirius would be alive. If I had known that Voldemort could give me visions I never would have believed any of it. If I had known what was going on I would have trusted them and not gone rushing off to fix everything myself. If I had only known. If only I had known. If only... _

He spent the rest of the feast with these thoughts going through his head.

After what seemed to be hours Dumbledore got up again to give out the start of term notices. _Get on with it _Harry thought, _get on with it and tell me what's going on. Get rid of everyone and tell me something _before _I get someone killed, for a change._

The doors to the great hall slammed open interrupting Dumbledore , much as it had done in Harry's fourth year when the fake-Moody had burst it, and a cloaked and hooded figure entered. Harry shuddered. The new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher (he assumed that was who the figure was) reminded him of a Death Eater. 

"Sorry I'm late," it said in a low voice that was obviously female as it stalked up to the head table. It was a pleasant voice Harry thought. Clear and deep, it also had a faint lilt to it. "I took a wrong turn. That's the last time I ever take directions from a house elf._"_

She lowered her hood as she approached Dumbledore and Harry gasped along with Ron, Hermione and Ginny as they recognised the woman. Tall, slim, blond, ice-cold blue eyes. The last time Harry had seen her was two years ago when her most noticeable feature was that she held her nose up in the air as if she could smell something extremely nasty. Narcissa Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy's wife, Bellatrix Lestrange's sister. Sirius' cousin who had played such a vital part in the events leading up to his death.

As she shook hands with Dumbledore Harry was filled with a fury so intense that he felt he would burst with it. First _him_ now _her. _If Dumbledore thought that he was just going to sit quietly like a good boy and wait patiently for his chance to have a word with him he was wrong. He was going to get up and show this Death Eater cow exactly what he thought of her.

In the split second that Harry had decided that he was going to demand an explanation there and then as to what she was doing there his eye met Narcissa's. They glittered and she ran her right finger in a straight line from her upper lip down to the base of her throat. Harry found to his horror that he couldn't speak. He couldn't open his mouth or make a single noise. He glared at her furiously. She smiled at him, a horrible, triumphant smile and then turned away. 

"I present the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher, Mrs Narcissa Malfoy," Dumbledore was saying.

"Mother! " Draco Malfoy said very loudly, sounding completely scandalised. Harry turned to look in his direction to see that Malfoy didn't look very pleased to see his mother there at all. Several people snickered and Malfoy went pink. 

Dumbledore smiled at Malfoy. "There is no need to look so disheartened Mr Malfoy," he said. "I only wish that I had been as lucky to have my mother teach me when I myself was a student here at Hogwarts. After all they say that the hand that rocks the cradle is the hand that rules the world.

"Quidditch tryouts will be held …"

Harry gave Hermione a nudge which in his panic was a lot rougher than he intended to as she almost fell off her seat. She glared at him. "What was that for?"

He gestured desperately at his throat and mouth. Hermione looked at him with growing annoyance. "Harry, this is no time to be playing charades. I don't know what's the matter with you. Are you sure you aren't ill?"

Harry pointed to Narcissa Malfoy, then mimed someone casting a spell with a wand and then pointed at his throat again. "Oh!" said Hermione clearly shocked. "She's put a spell on you. Why didn't you say so before? Oh dear! Let's see now - "

Dumbledore had apparently dismissed the school as all around people were getting up and leaving the great hall. While Hermione tried to think what counter-curse to use Harry watched Malfoy rush up to his mother and start to talk to her frantically as they left the hall together. When she reached the door Mrs Malfoy turned, looked straight into Harry's eyes and this time drew her finger opposite to the path it had taken last time - from the base of her throat to her upper lip. She gave him a very small, almost imperceptible wink and was gone.

Harry found he could speak again. "She hexed me!" he burst out. "She just looked at me and I couldn't speak!"

"What?" spluttered Ron, who hadn't noticed. "Who does she think she is? She can't just waltz in here and start hexing people!"

"I think you'll find that she just did." said Harry furiously. 

"Let's go," said Hermione quietly. "We can discuss this in the common room."

"Don't you have to take in the first years?" hissed Ginny. "No, you don't, the fifth year prefects do that." she answered herself. "We have to go and see Dumbledore, Harry."

"I'm not sure that I want to see him," Harry said as they started to leave the hall.

"Don't be silly," said Hermione briskly. "You've got to see him. I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation for all this."

"Yeah, I know a perfectly logical explanation for all this," muttered Harry. "He's trying to kill me."

***************

"Why are _you _the new DADA teacher?" Draco griped the moment he had dragged his mother into the entrance hall and had her undivided attention.

"You don't look too happy about it, sweet. I would have thought you would be pleased for me," she replied undoing the clasp of her cloak. 

"Mother!"

"Yes, sweet?"

"Why won't you give me a straight answer?"

Dumbledore came out into the entrance hall and hurried over to where they were standing just as she looked as if she were about to give Draco an explanation.

"Narcissa, you must come with me immediately. It is almost time for our interview," Dumbledore said.

Draco flushed with anger. Who did this Muggle-loving freak think he is, ordering his mother around? Especially when he, Draco, wanted - no, needed to talk to her.

Narcissa looked at Dumbledore with mild annoyance, "Weren't you going to do that before the feast?"

"Yes, _we _were, but _you_ were late so we are going to do this now," Dumbledore said sternly.

Draco glowered at him behind his mother's back. Malfoys were always fashionably late. Did he expect her to show up before time so she could do his bidding like one of those worthless Weasleys?

"We are, are we?" she said in the soft tone that she used when she was displeased. The angrier his mother was, the softer her voice would get. Draco knew that when she started to whisper it was safer to run first and ask questions later. 

"You will have plenty of time to acquaint young Mr Malfoy here with the situation after we have dealt with…" he trailed off and gave Narcissa a meaningful look.

She nodded, her forehead creased with the beginnings of a scowl. "Your office, I presume? Let me speak to my son for a minute and I shall be there directly."

Dumbledore inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement and then walked off towards his office. 

Narcissa smiled at him contritely. "Sorry, sweet. This will have to wait for an hour or so."

Draco glared at her. "You can't just leave me here to go and talk to him! Why didn't you tell me before? _I'm your son!_ Didn't you think that I deserved at least a warning of some sorts? What does Father have to say about this, or didn't you tell - "

"Draco! This is neither the time nor the place. I said I will get back to you, and I will, but for now you are just going to have to be patient." 

Draco pressed his lips together very hard and looked sulky. He hated it when his mother snapped at him. She seldom did but the few times that she did put him in his place he had learned, by painful experience, that she usually meant business. 

Her expression softened a little when she saw his face. She brushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear. "Just bear with me for a while longer, hmm?"

Draco nodded, still sulky. She looked for a minute as if she were going to hug him but then, (fortunately, or he would never live it down back in the serpents den) thought the better of it and settled for giving his shoulder a squeeze instead.

As she headed towards Dumbledore's office Crabbe and Goyle lumbered up to join him, followed closely by Arnez. 

"That's your mother," he said staring after her.

"Yes," snapped Draco. "What of it?"

"She doesn't seem the type to - no, forget it."

Draco, who was used to his mother giving him his own way, was still annoyed and was bristling for a fight. "Doesn't seem the type to what, Arnez?"

Crabbe and Goyle, sensing Draco's mood, cracked their knuckles and glared at Arnez menacingly. He took a few steps back and held his palms flat out towards them in a placating manner.

"Doesn't seem the teacher type that's all, Malfoy. I thought that it was a requirement of the staff to be old or ugly or both." he said.

"Alright," said Draco, only slightly mollified. "I'll believe you this time, Arnez, but if you ever insult my mother - "

"Then you may give me the pasting I deserve." Arnez finished, smiling.

Draco narrowed his eyes. This boy was up to something. People were never so nice and understanding unless they wanted to use you. The only way he was going to find out what Arnez was playing at was going to be by playing along.

He didn't smile back at him, that would give the game away, but simply assumed a more relaxed position. "Come on then," he said with affected huffiness, "I suppose I should show you the Slytherin side of the castle properly."

"I'd like that," said Arnez and then he smiled again. 

But none of Arnez' smiles ever reached his eyes.

***************

The Malfoy boy was up to something. The show of I-am-still-offended-but-I-still-want-to-be-your-friend hadn't fooled Tom a bit. He was trying to catch Tom off his guard hoping that he would let something slip. Tom knew this all very well as he played similar games himself.

But while Draco was an amateur at this Tom was an expert. He had fooled adults and his peers into believing that he was someone that he was not for years. Draco was not the most subtle of creatures. He went all stiff and awkward at crucial places. It was only a matter of time before Tom beat him at his own game.

The mother, on the other hand was a different story. Tom wasn't sure if she was the kind of person who could be taken in easily or not. She was swayed by her son, that was clear enough, but Tom did not have much of an idea how easily she would be swayed by him. He doubted very much that the wounded orphan act, which usually worked so well with mothers, would have much effect on her. 

There was however the fact that there seemed to be a rift of some sort between her and Dumbledore. Neither of them had been pleased with the other and it showed. She seemed a little apprehensive of Dumbledore as well, when she had given in to him with so little fuss when she obviously didn't want to. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage.

He still wasn't sure about her though. Not sure at all.

***************

***************


	4. In the Headmaster's Study

Title : Forever (04/??)

Author : Secret Weapon

Rating : PG/PG-13 for now;

Pairings : HP/TR, SS/RL, DM/GW

Archive: Ask me first

Feedback : Yes please!

Time : Harry's sixth year. Post OoTP.

Summary :An age reversal spell brings a sixteen year old Tom Riddle to Hogwarts. A very suspicious Harry Potter returns to school, scarred in more ways than one. Can the creation of the Dark Lord be stopped this time? Will the two enemies reconcile, or is Harry doomed to burn in his hatred forever? Warning - Eventual Slash.

Chapter 4: A few things are cleared up and a few are not.

Disclaimers : Harry Potter and related characters and places belong to JK Rowling.

Thanks to my betas, Hyperbole and Suzine.

****

Chapter 04 : In the Headmaster's Study 

Harry and Ginny parted from Ron and Hermione and made the way to Dumbledore's office in silence. Ginny was lost in thought and Harry was still reeling from the shock of seeing both Tom Riddle and Narcissa Malfoy show up at Hogwarts within the space of half an hour.

The gargoyle at the entrance to the headmasters study seemed to be laughing at him and the mess he was now in. Harry kicked it as Ginny gave it the password and then wished he hadn't when his foot started to throb painfully. 

As they went up the spiral staircase they heard snatches of a conversation.

"… don't mind, do you?"

"I was not aware that you smoked," Dumbledore's voice came floating down to them. There was a trace of disapproval in his voice.

"Like a fault in the floo network," came the cheerful reply. "I can drink that gamekeeper of yours under the table too. But don't worry. Your students will never know."

"_Oh no! it's her," _whispered Ginny. 

Harry barely heard her. He had recognized the first voice the moment it spoke for the second time. He drew his wand, preparing to - he wasn't really sure what he was preparing to do only that he must do something. He must stop whatever it was that the Death Eaters were planning to do. It had to be a spell of some sort. He saw that the hand that held his wand was trembling, and why not? The Dark Lord and his Death Eaters had achieved the impossible. They had enchanted Dumbledore and now they were coming for him. He was not going to let that happen. He would fight them to his dying breath. He would-

Later he would swear the he saw the disarming spell that Dumbledore cast at him before he felt it hit him squarely in the chest knocking him to the floor. But at that moment, while he was lying at the foot of Fawke's perch, he wasn't really sure of anything. He just lay there staring at Dumbledore (who had a look of apologetic compassion on his face) and Ginny (who was looking at him as if he had lost his mind) with a sort of bemused detachment.

"You know, this is awful fun," Narcissa Malfoy's voice cut into the silent tableau. "But if all we're going to do is play statues all night then I think I'll take myself off."

She was leaning against Dumbledore's desk and smoking what appeared to be a very long black cigarette which was giving out blue smoke. She had removed her cloak and was wearing ice-blue robes. As she nonchalantly breathed out a lungful of blue smoke a few inches from Ginny's face Harry felt his anger swell up and reach a pitch. He pulled himself to his feet and turned on Dumbledore.

"You hexed me!" he said clenching his teeth. "To protect her." Saying out loud reconfirmed that Dumbledore had taken her side over his and this made him even angrier.

"Why is she here?" His voice was rising now in his rage. "Why is _he_ here?" 

"Now Harry," said Dumbledore in a placating manner. "Now just stay calm and-"

"STAY CALM? HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO STAY CALM? ALL YOU CAN SAY TO ME IS STAY CALM! HE- HER - YOU-"

"Articulate, isn't he?" drawled Mrs Malfoy, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. 

"Narcissa." said Dumbledore warningly. "Please don't make this any worse than it has to be."

"_WHAT'S GOING ON? ARE YOU TRYING TO GET ME KILLED? HOW MANY OTHER DEATHEATERS DO YOU HAVE HIDDEN AWAY?"_

"Harry, Mrs. Malfoy is here to - " Dumbledore looked at her as if asking her for help in his choice of words, she however was busy examining her fingernails, " - assist us." he finished. "All of your questions will be answered if you just - "

"Just what? Jump out the window? That would make them all really happy, wouldn't it?"

Narcissa sighed, "Perhaps it would be better if I spoke to them alone."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at her. "I thought you did not wish to speak to them alone."

"I don't." She said firmly. "But if all that wonder-boy here -" she waved a hand at Harry, "- is going to do is yell at you then I think you should leave me to it."

"What makes you think I'm going to listen to anything you have to say ?" Harry said furiously. "You're a filthy Death Eater."

She pulled up her sleeve and bared her left arm to him and Ginny. "See, no mark. I'm not a Death Eater. Never have been."

Ginny snorted. "So what? Do you expect us to believe that you're suddenly on our side?"

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Good Lord, are you really as young as that? I thought that you would be old enough to realize that the world isn't simply black and white. I'm not on your side, Virginia dear. The day you see me join that Order of yours is that day I take up permanent residence in St Mungo's alongside the Longbottoms." 

"Don't you mock Neville's parents," Harry said through his teeth. "You aren't fit to wipe their boots!"

She looked at him scornfully and then turned her back to him to face Dumbledore. "That suggestion of the body bind is beginning to sound a whole lot better now isn't it? At least let me put him under a gagging spell again, like I did in the great hall." 

Dumbledore shook his head at her. "You hexed him in the great hall?"

"That's right." Harry said to Dumbledore. "What makes you think she won't try and put the Imperius curse on us if you leave her alone with us?"

Narcissa scowled. "That was only because you were about to start screaming your head off about how I would turn everyone into black beetles while they slept. I don't enjoy being made a spectacle of. Besides, I hear that you can resist the Imperius, so what would be the point of trying it?"

"And every thing you do must have a point, must it not?" said Dumbledore. "Did I or did I not tell you that you were not to hex the students?"

Her expression turned sulky and she crossed her arms across her chest in a somewhat petulant manner. She reminded Harry of Draco. Apparently he hadn't inherited all his facial expressions from his father. "I distinctly remember a teacher turning Draco into a ferret two years ago," she said. "I thought they were more guidelines than rules."

"That was different and you are well aware of that," said Dumbledore testily. "How do you expect him to believe a word you say if the first thing you do is hex him?"

"How do you expect him to believe anything I say when he doesn't even trust you?" 

Dumbledore looked at Harry sadly over Narcissa's shoulder. "That is true," he said. "I have failed the boy most grievously in the past, which makes him mistrustful. However I cannot allow you to speak to him alone. I am sure that both of them would behave most unfavourably if I were to leave."

Narcissa shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said. "You know them better than I do. Lets face it, this is the first time we've ever been within a three foot radius of each other."

"That's not true," said Ginny. "We saw you at the world cup two years ago. You were sitting right behind us."

Narcissa frowned at her. "I could have been sitting next to Merlin himself that day and I wouldn't have noticed. I was completely and utterly hung over. I probably went around looking like I had a pile of dung shoved under my nose. At least that's how Lucius describes the expression I usually wear on one of those days." She turned to Dumbledore. "You know, maybe I should leave you alone with them. That would make them happy and you can have a cozy little chat."

Dumbledore gave her a very long calculating look. "What are you trying to pull Narcissa?"

"Why is it that whenever I try to do someone a favour they always think I have ulterior motives?" she said with a very ingratiating smile.

"Because, my dear, you always do," said Dumbledore.

"You've got a point," she said. "Alright then, I think my being here is a waste of time; and I left my son in the middle of a temper tantrum. I want to go and calm him down before he starts to throw things."

Dumbledore sighed and then looked up at the ceiling for a few seconds. "We shall do this together. You shall explain your part in this and I shall explain mine. But first - for their benefit, you must swear that you will not try to bewitch them or try anything underhand."

"I swear it on my mother's grave." she said solemnly.

"Your mother is not dead, Narcissa," Dumbledore said sternly.

"I know, but the shock of finding out that I've lowered myself to work for you will kill her."

"Narcissa!"

"Fine!" she said irritably, "I swear it on my son's life, my husband's life and everything else in the world that is precious to me. Satisfied?"

"That will be adequate," Dumbledore said. He waved a hand at the chairs around his desk. "Why don't we all sit down? This may take some time." 

Harry stayed where he was. Sitting down with the socialite wives of Death Eaters was not something he ever planned to do willingly. 

Narcissa sat down with an annoyed thump and lit another cigarette. "Well sit down," she said impatiently. "I don't exactly have all night."

Harry looked at her mutinously. She shrugged. "Stand then, I don't care either way. So how do you want to do this?" The last part was said to Dumbledore. "Either we make this a question and answer thing or we talk and they listen."

Ginny sat down. "Why are you here?"

Narcissa looked at her and siged. "Question hour, then. I'm here to teach Defense. The board of Governors were going on about how they wished a Governor was on the staff and I volunteered."

"Mr Malfoy isn't on the board of Governors," said Ginny."

"No, but I am." Narcissa said smugly.

"Since when?" said Harry heatedly.

"Since six months ago. I wouldn't have agreed to teach in normal circumstances but I wanted to see what had become of my handiwork."

"Your handiwork?" asked Ginny. "You mean Draco?"

"Oh dear God! I don't mean Draco. Honestly! Do you think that my only achievement in life was giving birth to him? I'll admit that he is perhaps my greatest achievement but I have done other things."

"Obviously nothing worth mentioning if your greatest achievement is that brat." Harry said snidely.

"Harry!" said Dumbledore reproachfully. "I am aware that you and Mr Malfoy have had your differences but there is no need to talk that way to Professor Malfoy"

Narcissa grimaced. "Professor Malfoy? That makes me sound 300 years old." She gave Harry a sickeningly saccharine smile. "I don't think much of you either, sweet, but your mother felt that you were worth dying for."

Harry glared at her. "Leave my mother out of this," he said.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'll tell you what, you don't talk about my family and I won't talk about yours. Agreed?"

"Suppose so," said Harry clenching his teeth. "What do you mean by your handiwork then?"

She turned to Dumbledre who nodded at her. "Tommy Riddle," she said. "Who did you think was responsible for little Lord Voldemort out there?"

"You brought him here?" said Harry. "How? The Diary?"

"Trust you to bring up that fiasco. No. That diary's no use to anyone but termites now. As it happens I made a little deal with your headmaster a few months ago. If he agreed not to give in to the urge to play witness for the prosecution at my husband's trial, I'd add a little something in the Dark Lord's night cap, have him turned into a pretty little sweet sixteen again and have him delivered. I even offered to gift wrap him. We both kept our word, as you can see. That's all there is to it really."

Harry gaped at her. He sat down and stared at her disbelievingly. "You mean it was nothing but a simple youth potion? That's what brought him down."

Ginny was looking equally amazed. "We learn shrinking potions that turn toads into tadpoles in third year. You can't expect us to believe that that's all that it took."

"Was your husband planning this all along ?" Harry asked. "It would be just like him to dispose of the existing Dark Lord just so he could take his place."

"I love it how everyone immediately assumes that this whole thing was Lucius' idea," Narcissa said with sarcasm. "And don't you presume to know how my husband's mind works."

"You mean it was your idea?" said Ginny.

"More or less. It's sort of been a pet project of mine since the Dark Lord materialized last year. I wondered why he used such crude measure of resurrection and if there were other ways. So I did a little research.

"I didn't intend to use what I learned, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I knew the headmaster wouldn't turn me down."

"So that's all it was. A simple youth potion.?" Harry repeated.

"There was nothing simple about it. Do you want to take over?," she asked the headmaster.

"No, you go on. As I said you shall explain your part in this and I shall explain mine."

She pouted. "My part takes a lot more explaining," she muttered. "A youth-potion eliminates the affects of age on the body," she said rather as if she were delivering a lecture. "Now that sort of thing couldn't be used on the dark lord because his body hadn't aged. The body he fashioned for himself was only a year old. I couldn't turn that thing back to what he looked like fifty years ago because fifty years ago it didn't exist. 

"So if I want a sixteen year old Dark Lord I'd have to create a new body for him, which isn't exactly a walk in the park is it? His old body was destroyed with the rebounded killing curse he sent at you. What I needed to make was a mortal, sixteen year old body that would then continue to age normally.

"Now, let's talk about his soul - "

"He didn't have a soul." Harry blurted at her.

Narcissa scowled at him, "His spirit then. For that I'd have to remove it from the old body before I could fashion a new one. While that takes care of weakening his powers enough it doesn't help with memory extraction."

"What's that?" Harry was started to get interested in spite of himself.

"Extracting memories. What did you think it was? It's easy to remove thoughts from a body, but not from a soul or spirit. The memories and experiences make that spirit what it is. In effect you're altering someone's essence. That's even harder than the body bit, it never works completely either. He still will be able to remember parts of his previous life. There still will be remnants of Voldemort in Tom Riddle but it's the best I could do.

"Finally we have to - how do I put this - reset his powers so to speak. He can't go around as powerful as he was when he was old snake eyes can he? His magic would be completely out of control. There would be too much accidental magic going on for anyone's good. Therefore it has to be toned down. As I said, the whole procedure's anything but simple." 

"But you did it," said Ginny incredulously. "Wouldn't it have been easier just to kill him?"

Narcissa dipped her head in mock salute at Dumbledore. "That's where he comes in." 

"I do not approve of murder unless there is no other way out," he said. "Death does not destroy evil. It merely shifts the focus. I blame myself for not seeing when Lord Voldemort came to be even when he was right under my nose fifty four years ago. This time I hope to remove all trace of evil from him. It is as much a second chance for myself as it is for him"

Harry didn't really understand Dumbledore's reasoning. He was still going over what Narcissa had said. "So you spiked Voldemort's drink with a potion that did all that?" he said to her. "Didn't he realize what was happening?"

"Did I say that I spiked Voldemort's drink with a potion that did all that?"

"You just said - "

"That I added _a _potion. What I gave him was Draught of the Living Death. I didn't want him waking up in the middle of it, did I?"

"Then you - "

"Then I did what had to be done. Stuck a portkey under his arm to have him whisked away to where I wouldn't be disturbed. By the by, we told Riddle that it _was_ a potion that did all that, so don't go and tell him it wasn't."

"Why?" asked Ginny.

"So he spends his time looking up potions and not the real thing," said Dumbledore. "Neither of us are certain that the process can be reversed but if there is a way it is more than certain that he would be able to find it if pointed in the right direction."

"You also said that you weren't a Death Eater," Ginny said to Narcissa accusingly.

"I'm not. Do you think that I'd want to spend all my spare time running around in a mask screaming 'Hail Voldemort'?"

"Then how did you get close enough to whisk him anywhere?"

Narcissa turned away from them. "That's for me to know and you _not_ to find out. Isn't it time for you to start explaining things?" she said to Dumbledore hurriedly.

He gave a disappointed sigh, "I had hoped that you would have changed your mind. I do not wish to keep anything from them. The results of doing so can prove to be quite disastrous. We have the tragic events of last June to attest for that. Do you not think they have a right to know?"

Kind blue eyes met cold blue ones. Narcissa's nostrils flared and she exhaled deeply blowing out two clouds of billowing smoke through them; it made her look, Harry thought, like one of the agitated dragons he had faced during the first task of the Triwizard tournament.

She looked away from Dumbledore abruptly and stared fixedly at a paperweight on the table. "We've-been-through-this," she said jerkily. "You agreed that nothing would be divulged that could be potentially damaging to myself or my immediate family."

"It will make them all the less inclined to trust you," Dumbledore said.

"At exactly what point in this conversation or any prior to this did I give you the impression that I cared?" she said edgily. "You ask me do they not have the right to know? They have the right to know why _he _is here, that I was the one who caused him to be in such a state and why I did it. They do not have the right to know _how _these events came to pass. That is my business." Narcissa said all this very fast, never meeting Dumbledore's eyes, as if she were afraid that something might stop her from getting the words out if she slowed down. 

"Very well," said Dumbledore, who was not looking very happy about this arrangement. "You both may be reassured that although Mrs Malfoy may have had dealings with Death Eaters she is not one of them. The means that were used to bring Tom Riddle to his present condition are -" he paused to glance in her direction " - frowned upon by the Magical Law Enforcement," he finished delicately.

"Her husband's a death eater." Ginny persisted.

Narcissa whipped her head around and gave her the same intent look that had previously been reserved for the paperweight. "That was never proved before the Wizengamot. I hear your father gets his kicks from Muggle appliances. Does your mother feel the same way?"

"No, but that's different - "

"Miss Weasley," cut in Dumbledore. "There is no need to dwell on that. You have my word that she is not a Death Eater."

"What if it's a trap?" Harry said hotly. "What if he does have all his memories and he wants to get to us from the inside?"

"I have seen into his mind," said Dumbledore calmly. "Everything in there is exactly how it should be. He is still far away from becoming Voldemort. This time I hope to make sure that he stays Tom Riddle."

"What about the other Death Eaters?" asked Harry. "Don't tell me that her sister went along with this."

"Bella? Hell no! She's probably running around with the rest of them like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. I didn't stay to watch how they'd take it. You'll agree that it was best that I wasn't seen anywhere near the scene of the crime." Narcissa said with a strange look in her eyes that Harry couldn't quite make out.

"So what's going to be done about them?" he asked her.

"Not my problem, sonny. My part of the deal was to hand over one Tom Riddle. The Death Eaters are for your precious Order to sort out."

Harry stared at her, "You're not afraid that they'll come after you?"

Narcissa didn't answer this at once but smoked steadily away on her cigarette. She didn't even look at either of them 'till she had finished it and lit another one directly from the glowing end of the first. "I don't know," she said finally. "I should be quaking in my boots, but I'm not. I don't know if they know that I'm to blame or not. They may not come after me."

"What if they do?" asked Ginny.

Narcissa shrugged. "Then I guess it will be my problem. I'll deal with it."

"The few remaining Death Eaters that were not captured in June are currently in a state of fear and disarray at the sudden loss of their Dark Lord," said Dumbledore. "They will take several months to pull themselves together and form any sort of stand. When the time comes we will be ready for them. Is there anything else that you would like to ask?" 

"Yes," said Harry brusquely. "What exactly do you expect us to do with Voldemort here? Forgive and forget and live happily ever after?"

"Voldemort is not here, Harry. Tom Riddle is. He is not Voldemort now any more than you are. He is just a boy and I expect you to treat him as you would any other boy."

"He opened the Chamber of Secrets in his fifth year," said Ginny. "He isn't a complete innocent."

"No," said Narcissa. "He isn't. His actions did result in a child's death but he hasn't really killed anyone. Your headmaster wishes to give him a second chance before he is corrupted completely."

"That's stupid," said Harry harshly. "Even if we don't count everything he did after his fifth year, what he did is still unforgivable. I think that you should have killed him when you had the chance"

Narcissa sniggered at him. It was an ugly sound. For a second she looked remarkably like her sister. "You sound like my dear departed cousin. Always going on about how A deserved to die and B deserved the Kiss and C deserved to burn in hell for all eternity. Righteous sod."

Harry's throat was suddenly dry and he felt his heart pumping hard enough to break through his chest. "Sirius - Sirius - was - "

"A fool," she said softly. "He was a fool and that is what - ."

"DON'T TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT!" screamed Harry at her jumping to his feet . "You have no right! "

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Sit down," she said. "If you want people to treat you like an adult, for Merlin's sake try to behave like one. You will just have to accept that he wasn't a perfect, flawless character. He was reckless, did exactly as he pleased with no consideration for anyone or anything and was carried away with his own cleverness. He'd get what he thought were wonderful ideas and go ahead with them, never thinking them through and terrible things would happen. That's the story of his life and ultimately what lead him to his death."

Harry couldn't speak, his throat had clammed up suddenly. He didn't sit down. He just stood there staring at her.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "That will be enough, Narcissa. Do not distress him any more than you have to. Please sit down, Harry. We should not be too hasty while dealing out death. For who are any of us to decide who has the right to live or die?" He looked over his half-moon spectacles straight into Harry's eyes. "He is not the Dark Lord yet . He could be stopped this time. Just try to forget that he once grew up to become the World's most feared wizard, and then it is more than likely that he won't"

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat painfully and sat down again. "What about the prophesy?" he asked. "Am I supposed to forget that? My godfather died because Voldemort wanted it." 

"What prophesy?" Narcissa asked. She seemed genuinely puzzled. "_He who speaks the tongue of serpents will bring forth a plague of terror that shall last for one and ten years -"_

"I don't know about that one." Harry said refusing to look at her. "I meant the one about me and Voldemort Trelawney made. You know, the one that all the fuss at the ministry was about."

"Oh _that _prophesy!" she said dismissively. "You don't need to worry about that."

"How can I not worry about it? It says that I either have to kill him or be killed myself. "

"Do you believe everything Sybill Trelawney tells you?" Narcissa asked. "If I had dug a grave for every time that woman predicted someone's death I would have uncovered an area the size of a world cup Quidditch stadium by now."

Harry glared at her. "But this was a real prophesy. She went into a trance and everything. _One must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. _One of us is going to end up killing each other." Beside him he heard Ginny gasp.

Narcissa gave him an odd look. "And you're certain that it will come true? I wouldn't have thought you a person who gave that much weight to prophesy and envisage."

"The first half of it came true," Harry shot at her.

"So you say," she said giving him a gentle smile. "So what you're saying is that fate governs all our actions. That every decision you make is pre-destined. That if it is written in the stars that tomorrow morning Harry Potter will streak across the Great Hall wearing nothing but a feather boa singing, 'I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts,' then that is what he will do."

Ginny squeaked. Harry scowled at her. "Stop picturing it," he said shortly. He turned back to Narcissa. "That's ridiculous."

"Yes, perhaps it was a rather drastic illustration," she said. "But my point was that you believe that we are merely pawns in some divine chess game. You feel that we have no more control over what we do any more than we have over the passing of seasons."

"That's not what I said," Harry said angrily. "I make my own decisions."

"And are you responsible for your own actions."

"Yes, but-"

"And your actions result in your future. That means you and not the heavens control your destiny, so by believing in this prophesy you are contradicting yourself."

"But - "

"Why worry about it ? We have just established that it's nothing but a load of piffle, so carry on with your life and leave fortune telling to the fakirs."

"_But the first half came true! "_

"Conversely if you decide that your fate is not your own - " Narcissa carried on as if she hadn't heard him, " - then nothing that you do or do not do will have any effect over what is to happen so why beat yourself over the head about it? Carry on with your life and let destiny take its own course."

Harry opened his mouth and then shut it again. "That - that just - "

"Makes sense?" Narcissa said smiling.

"In a completely warped way, "Ginny cut in before Harry could say anything. "What was the part of this prophesy that came true?"

"I'll tell you later," Harry said. "Professor Dumbledore, I can't just carry on with my life and ignore what you told me. You said that - "

"Why ever not?" said Dumbledore his eyes showing the first sign of a twinkle that evening. "After all the prophesy mentions the Dark Lord and as there are no Dark Lords present there is no cause for undue anxiety. Perhaps it is time for you to treat yourself as a normal boy as well as Tom."

Harry didn't know quite what to make of this. He just sat there trying to make some sense of the sudden sharp turn that his life had taken. An uncomfortable silence settled between the four people in the office and seemed to stretch on, none of them willing-or able- to break it. 

"I think it is best if we all retire for the night if you have no further questions," said Dumbledore rising to his feet. "You will have a lot to tell Miss Granger and Mr Weasley. You might be well off knowing that Mr Riddle will be going under the name Jeremiah Arnez during his stay here. I bid you all Goodnight."

As Mrs Malfoy was a few steps in front of them Harry and Ginny descended the staircase in silence. "Well," she said with a cheerfulness that contrasted strongly with how Harry felt when the reached the Entrance gargoyle . "I'd better make sure that Draco hasn't given himself an aneurysm."

"I still don't trust you," Harry said. "I don't trust you one bit."

She was a couple of inches taller than him so she bent down so they were on eye level. "Good for you," she said with the same nasty smile she had given him in the Great Hall. "Trusting someone too easily can prove injurious to your health. I'll see you in class." She headed off in the direction of the Dungeons leaving Harry feeling much lighter once she had left.

******************** 


	5. Paranoia

Title : Forever (05/??)

Author : Secret Weapon

Rating : PG/PG-13 for now;

Pairings : HP/TR, SS/RL, DM/GW

Archive: Ask me first

Feedback : Yes please!

Time : Harry's sixth year. Post OoTP.

Summary :An age reversal spell brings a sixteen year old Tom Riddle to Hogwarts. A very suspicious Harry Potter returns to school, scarred in more ways than one. Can the creation of the Dark Lord be stopped this time? Will the two enemies reconcile, or is Harry doomed to burn in his hatred forever? Warning - Eventual Slash.

Chapter 5: Everyone is human and we are all afraid at times. Even the former Dark Lord. 

Disclaimers : Harry Potter and related characters and places belong to JK Rowling.

Thanks to my betas, Hyperbole and Suzine.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed. :D. You made my day! Sorry if this took too long - Real Life can be such a bitch, sometimes.

****

Chapter 05 : Paranoia 

"_What do you mean you can't find him?!_ You were the one who found him the last time. Surely you can do it again!"

"I - I - what do you expect me to do? It's as if he's disappeared off the face of the earth."

"Don't give me that! He can't have just disappeared. Not now - not again. It's _impossible _I tell you!"

"Then where _is _he?"

"You weren't looking hard enough! You're nothing but a stinking coward. Call yourself a true supporter - the only reason you came out of hiding was because you had to!"

"I don't see you finding out anything useful."

"How _dare _you! You sniveling, conniving little rat! I was - I _am _his most loyal servant! How dare you insinuate that I am not doing everything in my power to -" THWACK!

"Ouch!"

"If you ever say such a thing again I will - remember what happened to the Longbottoms?"

"You - you wouldn't - he -he will be most displeased. He wouldn't want you to - you wouldn't want to upset him - "

"Get _up_ you odious worm! You disgust me! I'll let you live - for now. We have to find him. I don't care what it takes. I'll torture every single member of that wretched Order to insanity if I have to."

"Are - are you sure that he hasn't gone to …umm do something and didn't think to tell us?"

__

"What?"

"It's just he's very busy. It could have slipped his mind and -"

"Silence fool! You would think that. All the better for you to go crawl into a hole somewhere. Do you honestly think he wouldn't have told _me? _He would not have left - especially now - now that we have _it._"

"Oh… oh yes,"

"They will repent the day they ever stood against him. Their idyllic little world will perish in shadow and flame. The rivers of the world will flow red with the blood of Muggles, Mudbloods and all those who love them. Our Lord will rise again more powerful than ever before. Our time has come."

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Severus Snape was sitting in his private quarters mulling over the events of the day. He was thinking how things never turned out the way that you thought that they would. On the other hand, people (in his opinion), were predictable. People could be relied upon to stick to their own traits and mannerisms with unswerving monotony. Dumbledore could be counted on to believe that there was some good in everyone. Potter, the arrogant hot-headed little idiot that he was, could be counted on to rush off and do the very thing that he was told not to. Hagrid could be counted on to get hold of some hideously dangerous beast every year and then convince himself that it was no more unsafe than a fluffy bunny. Even if they sometimes had a tendency to surprise you, people could be counted on to remain consistent. That was why he could not, for the life of him, fathom why Narcissa Malfoy, social butterfly and ice-bitch extraordinaire, had taken up the Defence Against the Dark Arts position.

He also didn't understand why there had been no sign of an irate Lucius Malfoy. Lucius assumed that because Severus was teaching at Hogwarts he had no social life, (he was quite right but there was no way in hell that Severus was going to admit that) and had no qualms about showing up at odd hours to complain about whatever was going wrong with his life, more specifically, his marriage. Narcissa was Lucius' chief confidant, but whenever frictions did occur (and they had been occurring more frequently since Draco's arrival at Hogwarts), Severus found himself playing an unenthusiastic mediator.

They had all felt the Dark Lord gaining strength the year of the Philosopher's Stone incident. Even though the Mark had remained dormant under his skin, Severus had known that _he_ was getting stronger. Lucius had said nothing to him but Narcissa had seemed particularly jittery that summer. Severus had thought that she was anxious about her baby dragon flying the nest, but later realized that she must have known about the dark, sinister feeling that _he _was on the move and reclaiming _his_ powers. It was unfeasible that Lucius would have kept something of this magnitude from her. When it was all over and Potter, whose guardian angel seemed to work overtime, had overcome the Dark Lord for the second time, she had appeared to be much more relaxed. Of course a casual observer would be of the impression that she was simply relieved that Draco had survived the first year of boarding school. _Sweet are the uses of motherhood*, _thought Severus.

The next time he had seen the Malfoys was at Diagon Alley. Lucius had had a black eye and was calling Arthur Weasley every foul name under the sun. Some of them were quite creative. Narcissa was looked pretty much the same as she always did but the tension that she was giving off was, to be clichéd, so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Draco had been quickly dispatched to select a racing broom and then Lucius had really let off steam. 

But even through all the ranting and raving he detected a certain smugness about Lucius' person. He had said as much to him…

__

"You're looking very pleased with yourself, Lucius," he said. "Did you manage to mortally wound Weasley senior during your little skirmish?"

Lucius smirked. "Mortally wound him? Hardly. But when you think of it - "

Narcissa turned on him, eyes flashing, uncharacteristically inarticulate, "You mean - that is - did you - ?"

Lucius scowled at her and a muscle in his face twitched. Severus knew from their association of many years that roughly translated this particular gesture meant, 'Don't talk about it in front of him'.

"I just took a few precautions, that's all," Lucius said, avoiding looking at his wife.

It was pointless to prod either of them for information. Narcissa lit a cigarette with not so steady fingers and inhaled deeply. This seemed to calm her down momentarily.

"I thought you gave those up," Severus said. This was especially disturbing. She had given up smoking when she and Lucius had decided to procreate and had not lapsed even once since. The fact that she was distressed enough to start again was worrying. 

She shrugged. "I slipped up. It happens. Severus, why don't you do something about your hair? You know, I'm beginning to think that you let it get that way on purpose."

The topic had been closed. Both of them refused to discuss anything else and Severus made his excuses and slunk off as fast as he could which was probably what they wanted anyway.

He looked back over his shoulder once he had put a sufficient distance between them. Lucius had a hand on his wife's shoulder and was talking to her in what seemed a reassuring manner. He couldn't see Narcissa's face but her posture was tense and rigid. He watched Lucius brush a loose curl behind her ear discretely, not exactly a caress, but all he would allow in such a public place.

Severus felt an unfamiliar pang of longing. Not for Lucius, but for somebody - anybody, who he could go to for reassurance when he was afraid or upset or - 

He jerked himself out of his chair, furiously. If he had not spiralled off into a vortex of self pity he would have remembered this little encounter outside Flourish and Blotts the first time the Chamber had been opened. He knew how to block and let go of his emotions under pressure, why couldn't he remember to execute some control over them in his day to day life?

Or perhaps he hadn't remembered because he didn't want to. Perhaps he had subconsciously repressed the memory of the conversation because he didn't want to believe that they had anything to do with the petrifications that were going on. Perhaps some of the old ties of loyalty were still bound. 

Where had that thought come from? Severus shook his head vigorously from side to side. Obviously the few fire whiskies that he had drunk previously were going to his head.

He wasn't sure about the whole diary affair. Lucius had probably come across the diary while sweeping out his manor in preparation for a ministry raid. But had he passed on the diary for the benefit of his old master or had he been planning to attempt to gain control of the Shadow of Tom Riddle that had emerged from it?

It was only after the Dark Lords resurrection that serious differences had surfaced between the Malfoys and Lucius had started to unburden himself to Severus. Narcissa was terrified that Lucius was going to end up killed or Kissed or worse and Lucius really couldn't see why she was making such a fuss. Severus encouraged him to 'let it all out' (a slightly inappropriate phrase; Lucius would never let anyone see all of himself) for after he had finished whingeing he would talk of other things. Things that had proved to be most beneficial to the Order.

He had no doubt that if Lucius had the slightest inkling that he was not the loyal Death Eater that he professed to be, his life would be short and his death slow. The Malfoy family was not noted for being merciful. Narcissa - did she know? Exactly how much information had been exchanged? Dumbledore had patted his shoulder and told him not to worry when he had asked him about it.

Whenever he had met the Malfoys after Lucius' acquittal they had behaved as they always had with him. When he had met them at Diagon Alley earlier in the day they hadn't even mentioned that Narcissa was taking on the teaching position. It had been perfectly normal. Lucius had been a little distracted - he had muttered something vague about having to leave the country on urgent business, which was irregular as Lucius didn't usually have much urgent business abroad. In any case Severus had assumed that Narcissa would be going with him. 

Nothing had prepared him for her sashaying into the Great Hall that night at dinner. Was she there to try and manipulate Tom Riddle? Or was she at Hogwarts because it would keep her safe from the few remaining Death Eaters? What was the urgent business that Lucius had to attend to? Where was he going to attend to it? Above all did they know that he was a spy and if they did then why was he still alive?

The questions kept spinning through Severus' mind and it didn't look as if they were going to be answered any time soon.

All he could do was wait - and watch.

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Remus Lupin made his way across the Hogwarts grounds with some difficulty. It had started to rain when he had Apparated at the gates, by the time he had got to the Whomping Willow it was pouring and he was soaked through to his skin. 

He made a pitiful picture as he trudged into the entrance hall in his shabby, dripping robes making puddles all over the floor. Remus was glad that he wasn't a student any more. Filch would be livid when he saw the trails of water that he had left behind him.

He made his way to the dungeons without being seen which was how he wanted it. The last thing that he needed was an uproar because there was a werewolf in the place. He rapped on the door to Severus' private quarters and then leaned against it. The time for this months' Change was approaching and he could already feel the wolf stir in him.

He fell backwards as the door abruptly opened. He would have crashed into Severus but the man stepped backwards and let the floor take the brunt of Remus' fall.

Remus winced as he hit cold, hard granite. His left side would be bruised black and blue come morning. "Hello Severus," he said to the pair of black boots near his head.

"What are you doing here?" Severus asked furiously. 

Remus raised his head. "Hoping you'll help me up," he said hopefully extending a hand.

Severus scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. Remus sighed and got to his feet. He supposed it would have been too much to ask that he and Severus could get off on the right foot for once.

"I asked you a question," Severus said through clenched teeth. "Why are you here?"

"The wolfsbane," said Remus. "Dumbledore said that -"

"I know what Dumbledore said," Severus sneered. "Wait here."

He slammed the door in Remus' face. Remus closed his eyes and counted to ten under his breath. He wished that he could just turn around and leave. He wished that he didn't have to be dependent on Severus of all people for the potion that kept his monthly condition in check.

The door swung open again. Severus was carrying a large bottle which he thrust at Remus. "Here. Now be gone."

He made to shut the door but Remus blocked it easily with his foot.

"I want to talk to you," he said.

Severus' upper lip curled in displeasure. "I have nothing to say to you, werewolf."

"I thought you might say that. However I do have something to say and I am not leaving here until I have said it." 

Severus growled. "Yes, yes I know what you want. You want to tell me that I'm a black-hearted bastard who taunted your wronged, misunderstood canine companion to the grave. Well I'm sorry that he was so stupid that he couldn't follow simple instructions. In my opinion his passing was no great loss and I do not wish to waste my valuable time talking about him."

He tried to close the door again but Remus held it open easily. Severus might have been a powerful wizard but he wasn't very strong physically.Remus, on the other hand, experienced a surge of enhanced strength before the Change. He would find that his senses were keener, like those of the Wolf's. Of course that was only _just_ a day or two before the change. The rest of the preceding week he would be pale and sickly.

"I don't expect you to change your opinion of Sirius just because he's dead," said Remus, outwardly calm, but trying to quell the desire to bash the other man's head against the wall. "I believe that the only reason that stops you from dancing on his grave is the lack of one. But that isn't what I wish to talk about."

Severus grimaced. "I suppose nothing else will get rid of you. What?"

"I'm worried about Harry."

"Lupin, if you think that I share your concern about Potter the wonder-pup then you are mistaken. In any case I am sure he will not appreciate any interference of the big bad potions master in his affairs"

Remus was beginning to get annoyed. "Will you let me finish?" he said brusquely. "Please," he added as an afterthought.

He didn't wait for Severus to reply to this but carried on. "I'm worried about a younger version of Voldemort being here _with_ Harry."

Severus nodded. "I'm worried about _him _being here at all, Lupin, but I don't think anything that either of us could say to the headmaster that would have him transferred to a more secluded environment."

"You've been around him, Severus. What's he like? Do you think he will try and seek out Harry?"

"If I were you, I would be less worried about him seeking out Potter," Severus said with a smirk. "But rather of Potter seeking him out. He will probably take it upon himself to deliver judgment for Riddle's past sins, or something along those lines. The boy overestimates his own prowess and importance to a nauseating extent."

They were getting nowhere, Remus reflected. It was going to be hard to keep Severus on track. He had a tendency to go off on a tangent whenever Harry came up. He decided to get to the point immediately.

"I think you should start giving him Occlumency lessons again."

Severus blinked. "I don't see why."

Of course, Remus hadn't expected him to. "With Voldemort at such proximity, do you even have to ask?"

"Damn it man! He isn't the dark lord any more," Severus said explosively. "He's a sixteen year old boy; and sixteen year old boys are usually not adept at obscure branches of magic like Occlumency and Legilimency."

Remus shook he head. He couldn't believe that Severus was being this obtuse. "He is no normal sixteen year old boy, neither of them are. Do you really want to risk the chance that he may be able to manipulate Harry or the other students for his own means?"

"Legilimens or not he will probably try and manipulate people anyway. How else do you think he became the dark lord in the first place? I see no valid reason to waste my valuable time to teach that ungrateful little brat something that he neither has the inclination or the disposition to learn."

"And the Malfoys? What -"

"Wait," said Severus, looking rather angry. "Did you know that Narcissa Malfoy was going to be the new Defence Instructor this year?"

"Yes," said Remus impatiently, not quite sure what had prompted this question. "What of it?"

"Nothing," he said averting his eyes. But Remus could see the cold fury in his face.

"You didn't know, did you?" said Remus, softly.

"It is not important. To answer your question, Lupin, from personal experience I can safely say that neither of the Malfoys poses a threat to Potter's mind. So, there really is no need for - "

Remus laid a hand on his arm. Severus' eyes widened and he glanced from Remus' face to the hand on his person. "Lupin, what are you - "

"I know why, Severus," he said gently. 

He started violently, jerking his arm away. "You know?" He was breathing very fast and Remus could see a vein pulsing on his temple.

"Yes, and I'm sorry and Harry is too. He was very disturbed by what he saw in your pensieve and - "

Severus drew in a breath sharply. "My _pensieve_? You're talking about my pensieve?"

Remus nodded. "That's why you refused to teach him anymore, isn't it? What did you think I was talking about?"

"Nothing," he said quickly staring at the floor, scowling so fiercely that his eyebrows almost met. The next moment he snapped his head up again to meet Remus' eyes. "He told you what he saw in my pensieve?" His voice was shaking with anger.

Remus swallowed. This was not turning out the way he had planned. "Severus, he only spoke to Sirius and I about it because he - "

"Black was there as well? How nice. I suppose the three of you sat down and had a good laugh." Severus said acidly, white with rage.

"It wasn't like that at all," Remus said desperately. "Severus, would you just listen!"

"Get. Out."

"For God's sake can't you -"

Severus cut off his words by shoving him away roughly and slamming the door in his face for the second time that night.

__

Damn him, thought Remus. _What is his problem? Why can't he grow up and carry on with his life instead of nursing old sores?_

He knocked at the door, "Severus! Would you let me explain?"

There was no answer. Remus sighed and walked away. He had hoped that he and Severus would come to some agreement. That his fears would be put to rest. But that was not to be.

He would get no answers here down in the dungeons. No reassurances, no empathy, nothing. He should have spoken to the headmaster and not have bothered with Severus at all.

But he had wanted to talk to a contemporary instead of a superior. Someone who was not comfortably powerful and wise enough to take everything in their stride. Someone who, like him was insecure and had doubts on the situation at hand. Someone who he could talk over the events that had taken place over the past two months, which were, frankly, very disturbing. He would have much rather have spoken to the Weasleys or to Tonks, but unfortunately one of the clauses in the agreement between the Malfoys and Dumbledore was that no Ministry official should be aware of what had happened, so they were out of bounds.

It was at times like these he missed James, Sirius and even Peter the most. When they were children, they had been all so sure that it would never end, that a time where they might be alone, afraid. They had been so confident, and like all young people had cheerfully overlooked their own mortality.

__

It's finally happened, Remus, he thought. _This time around, you really are the last of the Marauders._

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"Why is she doing this to me? Have I done something wrong? Do you suppose this is some sort of punishment for letting Potter hex me on the train?"

Tom winced. Malfoy had been pacing about the common room, complaining, ever since they had got there. He very much doubted that the present mistress of Malfoy Manor would take on a teaching job that required a great deal of time, effort and would probably be completely exhausting just to spite her son. He only wished someone would clue Malfoy on to this.

__

She's here because of me, Tom thought. He wondered whether his other followers knew what had happened to him and what they were like. _Oh yeah, most of them are in Azkaban. They must define the word incompetent if they let themselves be outdone by a handful of adolescents._

"But Draco, won't it be useful to have your mother here?" asked Pansy.

"Yeah," sniggered Goyle. "We'll be able to get away with loads of stuff."

Malfoy cast a withering glance at them. "You obviously don't know my mother. Why did I sign up for Defence? She's here to keep an eye on me, I know it. This year is going to be a nightmare!"

"At least it isn't your Dad," said Crabbe.

Malfoy shuddered. "Thank God for tender mercies. I wouldn't be able to put a toe out of line."

Tom got up. He was on a strict curfew and didn't want Snape swooping down on him and sending him off to bed, like a wayward first year, in front of his classmates.

"I'm going to my room," he announced to no-one in particular and stalked off without looking back. 

He heard them begin to whisper as soon as his back was turned and distinctly heard Pansy's agonized hiss of, "_Gay? _You mean all _that_ is going to be wastedon men?"

He itched to turn around and look at her face but he forced himself to keep walking at a steady pace until he had reached the staircase that led to the boy's dormitories. Then he bolted up the stairs and into his room.

He shut the door and sank onto the bed relieved to get away from the hustle of the Common room. 

He could practically feel Malfoy sneer internally every time the other boy looked at him. _What else did you expect, Riddle? A bastard poof of no particular wizarding family - I might as well have 'Outcast' stapled to my forehead._

Dumbledore was certainly taking no chances when it came to him. Homosexuality was not uncommon among wizards so that wouldn't be much of an issue but illegitimacy and the impurity of his blood were going to be major stumbling blocks for any possible allegiances that he wished to form with his fellow house-mates. _Perhaps he thinks that I'll turn to his precious Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs for company when I'm spurned by the oh-so-evil Slytherins._

But if that was indeed the headmaster's intention then he had underestimated just how ambitious the Slytherins could be. His background had not stopped those of his house from accepting him back in the 1940's when they had realized just how useful he could be and he doubted that the average Slytherin had changed in fifty years.

Malfoy would come 'round, the boy's grandfather had been a harder nut to crack and it had only taken him three months before he could get Lysander to overlook the fact that he was a half-blood. It shouldn't take half that long with this Malfoy.

But no-one really knew you were a half blood, said a little voice in his head. _They all simply assumed that you were an orphaned pure-blood, placed in the Muggle world for your own protection. And you never thought to correct them, did you?_

That had been quite a common occurrence back then around the time when he was born and Grindlewald's reign was faltering for a time. Several of his supporters' children had been left orphaned and their families would send them away to relatives in other countries or if worst came to worst to Muggle orphanages so that they could escape the stigma that came with the name that they carried.

He curled up into a ball wrapped his arms around himself. He might as well be in a different universe. He wanted to be back in 1943 where he belonged and where things made sense. He had never thought that he would miss his friends as much as he did. Were they even alive or had they all died? 

It was strange to think that he had actually achieved everything that he had set out to do. So he had a few setbacks, but he was the most feared if not the most powerful wizard of the British Isles. Wizards everywhere _were _afraid to say his name. But that was not going to do him any good. He was still no better than a captive. _Inmate 420**, Riddle T.M. Prisoner of Hogwarts Detention centre for Juvenile Delinquents. _

Even if he could get out of the suffocating confines of the school, where could he go? All he could do was to let them do as they pleased with him. In any case he didn't think that they were going to let their guard down any time soon. 

His two further years of study were turning out to be a dismal prospect indeed. He didn't even have the reassurance that they would let him go after that. If Dumbledore wasn't satisfied that he wasn't going to follow the exact same path that he had chosen before there was no telling how long he would be forced to stay where they could keep an eye on him.

There was also Harry Potter. _If looks could kill, I'd be six feet under by now._ He had a feeling things were going to get nasty and he was afraid he might inadvertently injure someone. His magic had never been very stable when he was feeling strong emotions, mostly anger, sometimes fear, and unpredictable things had a habit of happening. 

As if on cue the glass at his bedside table shattered. Tom whimpered and hugged himself harder.

__

Admit it, Tom. You're terrified, said the annoying little voice that sounded eerily like Lysander Malfoy._ And you should be. They're going to realize that nothing is going to change the way you are and then they're going to lock you away somewhere and throw away the key._

No they won't, he told the voice. _I'll find a way out of this some how. I always do, don't I?_

After all - I am Lord Voldemort. He felt better once he had thought this and uncurled from his cramped position.

__

I am Lord Voldemort. I am Lord Voldemort. I am - 

You were Lord Voldemort, mocked the voice. _Now all that you are is Tom Riddle. No wait; you aren't even that - you're Jerry Lee Arnez. Congratulations! They haven't even left you your pitiful Muggle name. What else will they change before they are done? Will they leave any part of you intact?_

"Stop it," he muttered through clenched teeth.

__

Or maybe they'll realize that you're a hopeless case after all. Maybe after a while they won't think it's worth it keeping you around any more.

"Stop it" he whispered. "Please."

It would be so easy. So easy to just slip a little something in your pumpkin juice. Or maybe one fine day you'll be flying and your broomstick will malfunction when you're fifty feet above the ground.

He closed his eyes and clutched himself again. He was _not _going to cry. He could feel tears pricking behind his eyelids. A sob was perilously close to breaking the surface.

__

Yes, cry like the little baby that you are. You'll be the only one though. No-one else is going to feel sorry that you're gone. They'll all be glad to be rid of you.

The water jug exploded spraying glass shards and water all over him. He barely noticed.

__

You're going straight to hell, Tommy. They're going to kill you, if not today then tomorrow. They talk about wanting to help you redeem yourself, but the truth is nobody cares. They just want their own consciences to be clear, so that they can say that they tried. But you will be stuck with your demons burning in an eternal hell-fire forever.

Tom cried then like had not cried since he was five years old - noisy wails with sobs wrecking his body. Nobody heard him. 

Dumbledore was too engrossed in another green eyed boy to bother about this lost morsel of humanity that night and so missed his chance at what would have been a major break through in his efforts to reach out to him. Had Remus Lupin not visited Severus Snape to bring back many painful, unsavoury memories the latter might have thought to check on his latest charge. Neither man would know of the magnitude of their mistake, but several people would be sorry for it afterwards. 

Somewhere two Death Eaters plotted the fall of the world and the rise of their Lord. In the Gryffindor common room an indignant, young boy and girl were recounting what they had been told in the Headmaster's study to their equally indignant friends. As he made his way to see the headmaster a young, prematurely grey werewolf was wishing that his carefree school-days had never come to an end while in the Slytherin dungeons a bitter, unhappy Potions-Master was trying to forget his. And a scared, lonely boy who should have never been forgotten that night cried himself to sleep. 

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* _Sweet are the uses of motherhood - _Rhett Butler to Scarlette O'Hara in Gone with the Wind

**_Inmate 420 - _In India, where I come from (although I live in the UK), a fraud is often referred to as a 420. This has no relevance to the story but is why I chose that particular number so I thought I'd mention it just the same.

A/N : Poor Tommy, he's all sad and angsty. Please review. It'll give me a warm, fuzzy feeling that gives me an incentive to write and Harry will get to huggle Tom that much faster. ;)


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